The Reign of Trees (33 page)

***

At dinner, Illianah felt as if the rest of the great hall was swarming with life, much like a thriving beehive. Her council members spoke eagerly one with another, continuing their plans and strategies. But she did not join their conversations, nor did she listen to them. Donovan did not seem to listen either. He sat at her right, his body leaning away from her slightly. It was apparent that he had much on his mind, and he did not eat much as it likely would have broken his concentration.

It was not a surprise when he entered her private chambers that evening and asked, “Might I have a moment of your time?”

Illianah turned in her chair at her dressing table so she could have a better view of where he stood. His voice had sounded confident, but when she saw the way he shuffled his feet, she sensed his nervousness, which then caused her heart to sink. If he was afraid to speak to her, his news must be formidable.

“I have decided to leave Burchess,” he said.

It was as bad as she had imagined. She took a deep breath and asked, “You wish to help your father?”

“Yes.” King Henrick had taken back his throne only one day after the Burchessian soldiers from Andoradda had surrendered to the Vievian soldiers at the Battle of St. Moraine. He did not have the struggle for support from his people like Illianah did—the entire kingdom of Deltegra was happy to have their king back on his throne. But he did have one struggle in common with her—the task of keeping borders safe from invasion. “I fear Deltegra will be attacked by Normandisle and Liksland before they turn their sights on Burchess.”

“I fear that will be their tactic as well,” she said sadly. It was likely her council knew this to be the case, yet they would not let her offer her support to Deltegra.

“I must go home and … ready the troops.”

She did not want to state the bleak—Donovan did not have enough remaining troops to protect his border from yet another attack, but she needed to know if he was running home to watch the death of more of his troops, or if he would be able to somehow save them. “You cannot have more than a thousand soldiers left. How will you prepare them to meet armies from the western countries?”

“I do not know.” His head hung low as he gave his reply. “I only know I cannot sit here and do nothing.”

Her heart felt like it was climbing out of her chest, attempting to push tears out in the process. She wanted to swallow the emotions, but her broken heart was reflected in her voice when she spoke. “I do not blame you for wanting to be at your father’s side. You are granted this request. How soon … how soon will you leave?”

“At dawn.”

“So soon?” Illianah could not stifle the sob that came from her throat. She tried to hide her tears from Donovan by bringing her hand to her eyes. A queen should not be crying like this. She should not be so weak.

“Illianah,” he said, approaching. He knelt beside her and tried to pull her hand away. “How is it that you cry over this news when you did not shed a single tear over the deaths of your father and Prince Harrington?”

“It is because they did not have my heart, as you do,” she said through her tears.

Donovan grabbed both her hands and brought them to his chest. “I am leaving your presence Illianah, but never your heart.”

His words did not dry her tears, but forced them to fall in greater droves. This was her greatest worry—that Donovan would never have a place beyond the private confines of her heart.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “I do not want you to leave,” she mumbled. “I do not know that I can do this without you.”

Donovan released her from his embrace and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You do not need me. You are strong, Illianah. Your intuition is precise. Do not let fear take hold of your crown. Be bold. Be brave. Your kingdom will prosper under your rule.”

He would not embrace her again like she longed for him to do, but he did give her the privilege of brushing his lips on her cheek before he left her chambers.

Illianah closed her eyes and thought of the kiss they had shared in the mausoleum. It had made her body come back to life with a renewed strength and fervor she had never thought possible. He had said the memory of that kiss would last him a lifetime, and now she realized it would have to last her lifetime as well. Kissing Donovan was in the past; not in their future.

***

It was another sleepless night for the queen. She wished she could go back to her youthful ignorance when nothing kept her from sleeping at night.

Giving Donovan the task of returning to Deltegra without aid from her kingdom was wrong; she knew it just like she had known he could not die for giving her freedom. Again, she did not know how to right this wrong: she only knew she must, even if it shook her throne so badly that it would topple.

Just as the sky was beginning to shed the blackness of night, she left her chamber and called for a meeting of the Privy Chamber—at once. She did not even allow time to get dressed.

The members of her council quickly gathered—looking sleepy and disheveled. She imagined she looked the same and briefly smiled at the thought that she was likely the first monarch to ever address a council in a nightgown. She glanced around the room and all members of her council were present—except Donovan. She imagined he dismissed himself from this meeting because of his imminent departure to Deltegra.

She did not sit, not wanting to waste a moment in getting to her topic. “Deltegra will be attacked, I am sure of it. They do not have sufficient forces to protect their country. It is our fault they find themselves in this situation. It was our troops who slaughtered their men by the thousands. It was our troops who burned their forests and villages and rendered them unable to function as an independent kingdom. And while it was not our current leadership who inflicted these hardships on Deltegra, it was done in the name of Burchess. We cannot turn our backs on them now, at the hour of their greatest need. To do so would prove us to be heartless and selfish. They are our neighbors. They have longed for many centuries to be our friends. I pledge my support to Deltegra, regardless of what it does to my popularity as queen.”

Several members of her council stared at her with wide, unblinking eyes. A few of the men look irritated. But one man—Count Leopold—nodded wholeheartedly. “The Queen is right; we cannot abandon Deltegra after we have left them crippled. They will fall to the northeastern countries, and then our enemies would control the forests. They would claim the seas with their newfound naval strength; then they would claim New Burchess.”

“If we do not fight for Deltegra,” she added, “we might be able to protect ourselves from the northeastern countries temporarily, but in the end we will be conquered. If we leave Deltegra be, we will essentially be trampling them under our feet and giving way to the northeastern countries to take control of the Western Corridor. We will then become the ones who are weak and useless.”

The room was so quiet Illianah could practically hear the blinking of her council member’s eyes. At least they were now blinking, as it signified they were no longer astonished by her pledge to help Deltegra.

After a time that felt nearly as long as when she had hung from the hangman’s noose, Sir Tannin spoke. “I agree with the queen. We should not abandon Deltegra. It would certainly mark the end of our kingdom.”

As Illianah looked from face to face, she saw a general consensus. It was agreed upon. “I will go tell Prince Henrick that he has our pledge of support,” she said, nodding to her council.

“He has already left,” one voice said. It was Count Leopold.

“Already? But it is not yet dawn.”

“He was already heading to the stables when you called this conference, My Lady,” Count Leopold said.

“No!” Illianah could hear the desperation in her voice. She ran from the room and headed for the castle’s courtyard. The portcullis was up. “No!” she again cried.

She ran through the courtyard, past the outer wall, and into the city streets. A few citizens were already out, beginning their day’s labors. Ten feet ahead, Illianah could see a procession of several dozen horses. That was him. That was Donovan’s caravan leaving the city.

“Stop!” she yelled, as she continued her frantic chase. “Stop at once!”

The caravan stopped and the rear horses turned in her direction. She could not see Donovan yet, so she continued to run through the caravan until she found him. He was on the horse in the center, and his eyes grew wide with astonishment when he saw her. It was then that she remembered her attire. She was in her nightgown. In the streets of St. Moraine. Donovan’s men and a few of the passersby’s bowed for their queen. She closed her eyes briefly and scolded herself for not showing more thought and discretion.

“I cannot let you go,” she said, grabbing Donovan’s horse by the reigns.

“Oh?”

“It is not right. You cannot go back to a kingdom brought to its knees by our former monarch without me first pledging my support.”

Donovan smiled, but only slightly. He hopped down from his horse and said, “
You
pledge your support. Or Burchess pledges her support?”

“Both,” she replied, unable to keep the smile from her face. “We will send troops to enforce your border with Normandisle. We owe you our support, as you would not find yourself in your current circumstances was it not for the tyranny of my father.”

He smiled larger this time and then bowed his head. “Thank you, Queen Illianah. Your help is most welcome.”

It looked as if the heavy blanket that had been shrouding his shoulders lifted. He no longer needed to worry about sending his few remaining soldiers off to their deaths.

“I would also like to ask you …” Illianah hesitated. She did not dare look around her, as she was certain her citizens would laugh at her for her next request. “I would like to ask for your hand in marriage.”

He looked like he would laugh, but it was not a mocking expression. He looked ecstatic. “
You
are asking for
my
hand? You do know it is supposed to be the other way around?”

“Yes, but you are ridiculously slow and I am highly impatient. I have waited a lifetime for a proposal from Prince Henrick of Deltegra. I am not about to let him ride away from my castle, yet again, without a promise of devotion.”

Donovan stepped toward her and tilted his head to the side, as if he was carefully considering her request. “You have always had my devotion, my precious Lily. You have always had my heart. I would be honored to be the man who can finally, officially …” Donovan paused as his mouth pulled up into a roguish smile, “claim yours.”

The End